Spoiled
by BlueSunflower
Summary: The Devil lets Sam get away with murder. No spoilers.


**A/N**: Yeah, I don't know why my muse struck me twice this week either.

* * *

_"What the Hell did you do?"_

The Devil watched his favorite reaper approach the table with increasing fury. All eyes in the luxurious restaurant were attached to the boy, and for good reason. Sam was soaked. So much so his shoes were leaving not droplets of water behind, but entire puddles. They squeaked loudly as he quickly walked across the room. Several staff were frantically rushing to clean up the mess.

Lucifer growled again impatiently. "It's not raining outside, Sam. Tell me what you did."

Trying not to wince at the tone of his boss' voice, Sam sat down. He played innocent and placed the digital camera on the table. "My job, like you told me to."

The Devil glowered. "I sent you to Thailand to take pictures of Senator Quinton with the child prostitutes. Exactly how does that involve looking like a drowned rat?"

Sam shrugged. "Despite the poverty, those brothels are surprisingly up to fire code. I made sure to check the sprinkler systems."

_**"SAM."**_

"Look, I got the pictures you wanted! It's enough to ruin the guy's career. More than enough. See for yourself."

The Devil picked up the camera and flipped through the pictures. "Oh, these _are _good. How old are the girls?"

"Twelve and nine, I think."

"And the boy?"

"Six."

The Devil nodded. "Double check and make sure before you give this to that new reporter I signed last week. He needs facts, not 'I think'." Then he sighed as Sam continued to drip all over the marble floor. "And next time save the kids without ending up a sopping mess. You're embarrassing me."

"I will be sure to work on that," Sam told him dryly. Then he looked around. "I got your directions. I must be getting better. I only had to run a half-mile to get here this time. At least I land in the same general area nowadays."

"I'm proud of you, sport." Lucifer beamed with pride, then leaned forward. "You happen to be in the finest restaurant Paris has to offer, you know."

"Oh." Sam grimaced as he lifted the silver lid off the plate in front of him. Escargot this time. Wonderful. "So when did you buy the owner?"

"What gave it away?"

Astonished, he indicated his disheveled state. "Hello! Earth to Devil. I got no resistance coming in here."

That earned a chuckle. "I bought him a year or two before you were born."

"So then, around the same time you bought me."

"Yes, that was a very prolific year." Lucifer watched as Sam made no move to eat his dinner. "You know the rules, kiddo. Or do I have to up the ante again?"

"No," Sam muttered resentfully. "You know I'll eat it. It's at what, two bites now?"

"Three." The Devil shook his head in exasperation. "Sam, we go through this every time. There's nothing wrong with having a little class."

"There's also nothing wrong with domestic beer," Sam shot back, then glumly eyed the dead snail now on the end of his fork. "Or a Big Mac, for that matter."

Ignoring the jibe, the Devil gleefully picked up his own fork to eat. "I cannot wait to get my hands on Quinton. I've already told Receiving to ready his accommodations."

Silence, then a muted "yeah" came from across the table.

The Devil lifted a single brow as he watched Sam shift hesitantly. "What now?"

"I was, uh, wondering if maybe you'd hold off on killing him."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. "And why would I do that?"

"Maybe you can still use him for something?" Sam tried to ask hopefully.

"I promised Quinton five important bills and to always be remembered for his legacy." The chill in the tone the Devil used could have frozen ice. "I have now delivered on that contract, Sam, even if it's not what the senator envisioned. For a man who spent his life devoted to children and children's rights, you know he used my protection to cover his more disgusting appetites. Don't tell me you don't want to see this monster pay for his sins. I see no reason to deny him his rightful place in Hell as soon as possible."

"He'll suffer if he stays alive."

"He'll suffer more if he doesn't."

Sam said nothing, but used his fork to play carelessly with his barely touched meal.

The Devil watched him, knowing what this was about. The boy was too compassionate for his own good. "This isn't about Quinton paying, is it, Sammy? This is about his victims."

Sam gave a guilty look. "Of course I want to see him pay. After all he's done, he belongs in Hell. It's just that many people won't realize he's really paying for his crimes if they don't see him suffer _in life_. They'll think he got off scott-free because he died before he could be prosecuted and go to jail. But his victims need to heal."

"I am not in the habit of caring about what humanity needs in order to feel better, Sam. Nor do I have any desire to give them visible closure. I care only about what I want, and I want Quinton where he belongs. He is my toy, and it's time to break him."

"Fine." Irritated, Sam put his fork down. "I've done my three bites. May I go home now?"

"You'll use your own powers, Sam. You obviously still need the practice."

"Big surprise," Sam replied sarcastically and rose to leave. "I'll give the pictures to the reporter first thing in the morning."

"No, I want it done now."

Sam nodded, and Lucifer watched the boy leave. Then he shook his head, sighed, and picked up his phone.

"Hold off on the paperwork, Fred. Our new guest will start his stay later than expected."


End file.
